Rain Falls
by AnnaLOL
Summary: An AU Sherlock fic. in which 15 yr. old Sherlock is orphaned and John agrees to help him find the killer
1. Chapter 1

Rain Falls: Chapter One

Sherlock stood, a child of fifteen, in the cemetery. It had been five years since the incident and nothing had changed. No weapon was found, no people suspected, and no murder solved. Rain fell on top of Sherlock head, clung to his hair, dripped down his face and soaked his clothes. It had been raining for the past three days, but he didn't care.

He heard the footsteps approaching him from behind and recognized the sound of the raindrops on umbrellas. Sherlock didn't turn around. He knew who the man holding the umbrella was, and he did not want to talk.

"Sherlock," A soft voice spoke behind him. "You'll catch a cold."

"You can't catch a cold just because it's raining," Sherlock replied. "You can only catch it from people around you, and right now the only person near me is you."

"Don't be like that," The voice sighed.

"Like what?" Sherlock raised an eye brow. "I'm simply looking out for my health."

There was another sigh and a shuffling of feet. "If you don't want to be caught, you really ought to not come here every year."

"I don't need your advice thanks," Sherlock replied.

"I have to take you to the station you know," The voice hinted.

"That would be your job," Sherlock acknowledged with a nod. "But we both know you won't."

The voice paused and thought for a moment. "You know, one of these days I very well might."

"No…you won't."

"And why won't I? I'd get a lot of recognition for tracking you down."

"Because," Sherlock turned around and faced D.I. Lestrade, "You know it was murder. And you know I'm the only one who can solve it. And I can't do that behind bars."

"It wouldn't be behind bars," Lestrade corrected. "They'd put you in a foster home."

"There's a difference?" Sherlock asked, turning back around to face the three graves.

There was silence. Lestrade wasn't quite so sure what to do and Sherlock was waiting for his next move. The quite lasted about three minutes.

Lestrade cleared his throat. "Well, how have you been?"

"Fine," Sherlock replied curtly.

Lestrade's phone rang and he picked it up without taking his eyes off of Sherlock. He held a one minute conversation with a police officer, answering in short words or even grunts.

"I have to go," He announced.

Sherlock just waved his hand over his shoulder.

"Are you going to be all right?"

"I always am."

"I'm not so sure about that," Lestrade let that be his final thought as he walked back to his car.

Sherlock remained at the graves for a moment thinking. Of course he was alright; he had food, water and shelter. He was fine…wasn't he? Not wanting to dwell on that subject any longer, Sherlock turned away and walked out of the graveyard.

The rain was picking up as John Watson stepped out of school. He had woken up late and thusly forgot his umbrella that morning. He figured the rain had stopped early and would continue to be gone, he was wrong.

John placed his books under his jacket and made a run for it. He only lived a couple of blocks away, but everything seemed to take more time when it was raining.

His feet splashed in the puddles and got the bottom of his trousers wetter than the rest of his legs. He could feel the water soak through his socks and shoes, making him incredibly cold.

John turned a corner and ran into a boy who was staring at the ground where he was walking. The boy stumbled a bit, but John fell to the floor, a couple of his books and papers slipping from his coat.

John looked up and met eyes with a tall pair of brown eyes half-hidden under a shag of black hair. The kid didn't have an umbrella and just stared at John as if he was an enemy.

"Sorry," John mumbled, ducking his head to avoid the angry face. He quickly went to work gathering his books up.

He reached for a book when another hand grabbed it. John rose to his feet and looked at the boy, who was staring intently at the book.

"Do you need this?" The boy asked.

"Kinda, yeah," John replied.

The boy turned the book over in his hands and then handed it back to John. "Watch where you're going next time," He mentioned before walking off, alone and slow, in the rain.

John stared after him for a while before remembering the rain and running home.

There was a knock on the door but it went un-answered. Jim Moriarty was too busy staring out his window. He could see the person below the second story window and they weren't worth his time. He'd much rather spend his time staring at rain falling on the window, predicting which would reach the bottom first. It was the only thing readily available to occupy his mind.

The back door opened and closed and Jim looked towards his bedroom door. The light came on in the hallway and the stairs creaked. A light of hope came into Jim's heart, but it left when the light went out and a different door closed.

Jim turned his attention to the mostly-empty room, filled only with a bed. He was so _bored_. He opened the window and allowed the rain to fall in. He reached out and grabbed the bars around the outside and leaned out a bit, getting his face wet with rain.

The couple across the street was talking at their table and Jim used this moment to practice his lip-reading skills. They seemed to be having an argument about milk.

Jim's attention was pulled away when he heard the rattling chains. He looked down at his watch and came to the conclusion that it was too early for the orphan to be returning. He turned to the left and watched the boy climbing through the gate. The boy turned as well and caught Jim's eye.

They didn't say a word, but they both could tell something was bothering the other; Sherlock wasn't feeling very alright at all, and Jim was feeling very bored, and _very _alone.


	2. Chapter 2

Rain Falls: Chapter Two

Jim was having trouble taking his eyes off the ceiling. There wasn't anything particularly interesting about it, it was just a white wall, but it was as if his eyes were physically incapable of moving. He tried closing his eyes, but they just started to hurt after a while, so he opened them again. He finally managed to rip his eyes away by turning on his side, his eyes now facing the window. He had left it open and the rain was creating a nice puddle on the floor.

Jim let out a heft sigh and gave closing his eyes another shot. They snapped open when he heard the chains rattling. Jim jumped out of his bed and raced over to the window just in time to see the orphan walking up Jim's house. The orphan stopped bellow Jim's window and looked up.

"What are you doing here?" Jim asked.

"You looked bored," The kid replied.

"So?" Jim was confused; this wasn't the type of attitude he had expected for this orphan.

"Misery loves company," He admitted. "I'm bored too," he added with a shrug.

Jim thought for a moment. He had a way he could get out, but it would mean never being able to get back in. He left the window, figuring that if he was at least with someone else, he'd survive, and he wouldn't be so lonely anymore.

Jim ripped the sheets off of his bed and let them rest in the puddle on the floor. Next he took off the mattress and threw it against the wall. He then began to kick at the bed until it crushed beneath the pressure. Jim grabbed a long piece of bed and made his way back to the window.

He grabbed the now wet piece of cloth and tied it around the two bars to the right. He placed the bed piece inside and started to twist. The orphan watched from below as the bars began to bend due to the tension. After the two bars were pulled together, Jim tightened the two on the left until there was a hole large enough to fit through.

Jim untied the sheet and tied it to one bar instead, letting the rest fall on the other side of the window. Before he climbed down, Jim grabbed a couple of items from his closet and stuffed them under his currently being worn shirt.

The orphan waited only semi-patiently as Jim climbed through the hole in the bars and down to the street below. Jim turned to face the kid and gave a small smile.

"I'm Jim by the way," he mentioned.

"Sherlock," The kid replied, waving his hand as he led Jim back to the broken gate.

There was a knock on John's door.

"Come in," He called out, still leaning over the books on his desk.

"Don't you think it's about time you go to sleep?" His father asked as he stepped inside the bedroom.

"I will in a minute," John replied. "It's hard reading this book, it got all wet."

"Should have taken an umbrella this morning huh?"

"Well, yeah, that, but I also ran into some kid and I fell and dropped my books in a puddle."

"Well, just try and get to sleep soon alright?"

"Will do," John waved goodnight as his dad left, then fell back in his chair with a sigh. He closed his book in defiance of the water.

John reached over and turned his small television onto the news channel.

"Today is the fifth anniversary of the infamous Holmes' murders which left three of the family members dead, and the youngest, Sherlock, orphaned at the age of ten. Since then no sign of the child has occurred. In charge of the case is Detective Inspector Lestrade, who had this to say at a conference earlier this morning…"

The screen changed to a press conference held inside the police headquarters. John got up and started to change as he listened to the news.

"No one has seen or heard from Sherlock since the incident. To the extent of our knowledge he has not come into contact with any of his relatives or friends of the family. He didn't show up for the funeral years ago and so far has made no attempt to visit his family's graves since then."

"Do you think it's possible that he's dead?" A woman from the audience asked.

"No, I don't believe that he is. He was a very bright child and I'm sure he knows how to keep himself alive and well."

"Do you think he's the one who done it?" A man called out.

"No, no," Lestrade closed his eyes and sighed. "There's absolutely no evidence to support that theory."

"But there's also no evidence to say he didn't!" Another woman spoke up.

"Look people, he was ten! There's no way a ten year old is capable of killing, let alone his own family," Lestrade argued. "No more questions please."

John walked back over, fully dressed for bed, and waited to turn the T.V. off. The newscaster was back on.

"This is the most recent picture we have of the missing child. If you see him it is very important that you alert your local police-"

John turned the T.V. off and crawled into bed. He closed his eyes and all he could see in his mind was the picture of the ten year old he had seen. The kid looked _so_ familiar, but he just couldn't re-call where he had seen him.

John turned off the light with a sigh, and tried to get the kid out of his head so that he could get some much needed sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Rain Falls: Chapter Three

"So, this is where you live?" Jim asked. "This" was an abandoned ware house filled only with one bed, a desk, and piles of what mostly were books. There were two light sources, the moon shining through the high windows, and a flashlight hanging from a rafter.

"Don't like it?" Sherlock replied, passing Jim in the doorway and walking into the large space.

"No, I do," Jim answered quickly. "I just didn't expect an orphan to have so much…stuff."

Sherlock turned to him slightly confused; Jim could practically see the question flirting around in Sherlock's eyes. Sherlock turned back and said nothing in return.

"There's only one single bed," Jim pointed out.

"Yes there is," Sherlock replied.

"I'll just, sleep on the floor than," Jim took off his coat and placed it on the ground with his other clothes next to the bed. "So…I know you're an orphan," He continued after a moment of silence. "Anything you want to know about me?"

"I know all I need," Sherlock said.

"That my name's Jim?" He asked perplexed.

"And that your mother's dead and your father is neglective, locking you up for days on end without food or water," Sherlock said. "What's more to know?"

"But…how did you even know that much?"

"Well considering the fact that you were locked up I assumed you probably didn't have a mother seeing as how mothers don't neglect children very often. They may abuse them sure, but rarely neglect or allow them to be neglected, which means she's dead and your father doesn't care for you often. You've obviously not gotten enough food and I can only assume that means you haven't been getting enough water either."

"How did you even know I was locked up? I could have just liked being in my room."

"The bars."

"…I don't follow."

"The bars on your window," Sherlock sighed. "The street you lived on didn't have houses built with bars over the window. Yours is the only one that does, which means someone must have put them there for a reason; to stop you from escaping. The only two reasons that would be is if you were locked up by a parent or if you were under house arrest, and seeing as you came out with no device on I figured it was the former."

"Was that why you brought me here?" Jim asked, suddenly afraid. "To just see why I was locked up."

"No."

Jim looked at Sherlock and the fear was gone. All his words had such _honesty_ to them, he could tell they were truthful and it was wonderful.

"You have chess?" Jim asked, spotting the board under a pile of books.

"Do you play?" Sherlock asked as he retrieved the game.

"I used to," Jim replied, helping Sherlock set it up on the floor. "My mom taught me, but I obviously haven't played recently."

Sherlock thought it was going to be easy to beat Jim. After three moves he knew he was going to beat him, all he had to do was capture Jim's bishop pawn with his queen. But then something quite odd happened. Jim moved his Knight's pawn up a spot, blocking Sherlock's access. Sherlock looked up at Jim, who was staring at the board intently; he might have just found someone worth playing.

The game went on like that for quite some time. Sherlock would get so close to trapping Jim, only to have him slip away at the last move. It ended when Jim's last pawn took out Sherlock's last pawn, and Sherlock's king took said pawn.

"I guess that makes stalemate huh?" Jim announced with a smile.

"Hm," Sherlock acknowledged that Jim had spoken, but spent more of his time looking at the board still.

Jim stiffened and became worried. Should he have let Sherlock win? Did he just lose his only companion?

"That was fun," Jim said. "You're very good."

"So are you," Sherlock replied, glancing up at Jim slightly, who gave a small sigh of relief.

"Well…It's kind of late," Jim said, checking his watch. "We should probably get some sleep."

Sherlock waved him off and went back to staring at the board. Jim crawled over to his clothed and lay down, using his coat as a blanket and the pile as a pillow. Just before he went to sleep, he looked over at Sherlock. He was staring at the board, as if he was still trying to figure out his next move.

XXX

"Don't forget your umbrella this time," John's mom said, stopping him moments away from the door.

"But it's not raining today," John argued.

"Well it wasn't raining yesterday morning either was it," She replied, forcing the umbrella into his hand.

"Alright," John tucked the umbrella under his arm and left the house. He took his normal route to school and passed a small outside dinner where he noticed someone familiar.

Sitting with another boy was the kid he had run into yesterday. John at first didn't think much of it, but as he passed by, his ear caught something, and he suddenly knew why the kid was _so_ familiar.

"So you've been trying to find out who killed your family this whole time?" The other boy asked.

John stopped walking, and crouched behind some bushes to listen in on their conversation.

"Yes," The first boy replied.

"Why haven't you found them yet? You seem pretty smart."

"It's hard to talk to people without them knowing who I am."

"Why would knowing who you are be a bad thing?"

"Because the police are looking for me. And if they catch me I won't be able to do much independent detecting."

"Well it's not like you're getting much done now…" The second boy's voice trailed off. "Perhaps I could help."

"How so?"

"I don't know, just a fresh set of eyes you know, someone who hasn't been staring at the case for five years straight."

"I'll take you to where the evidence is."

"It's not back there?"

"No, it's easy to find out where I live, much harder to find this place."

John heard chairs moving and saw Sherlock and the other boy walking away in the other direction of the school. John followed them, school could wait, this was more important.


	4. Chapter 4

Rain Falls: Chapter 4

(**Sorry this took a while, rough week and all)**

Jim was trying not to get lost. Sherlock was leading him through many different twists and turns on what seemed to be an abandoned section of the city. They had made so many moves that Jim had lost his sense of direction momentarily.

Finally Sherlock stopped at a building and stood in front of steps leading down into a basement. He looked over his shoulder at Jim for a moment, before he turned back around and started down the stairs. Jim quickly followed.

Sherlock took a key from his pocket and unlocked the door at the bottom of the steps, it was pitch black inside and Jim was a little hesitant to follow. He found himself bumping into the edges of desks and cabinets while Sherlock skillfully maneuvered his way in the dark.

Once they reached the back wall, Sherlock turned on a spot-lamp and the whole room got a dull glow to it. They were standing in what used to be an office. The dividers for each section had been taken down and all that remained were desks, a couple of chairs, and file-cabinets.

"Over here," Sherlock motioned to a large desk that had multiple papers littering the surface. The papers were different in style, some were police reports, some were pictures, others newspaper clippings, but they all had the same context; the murder of the Holmes family.

"How did you get these?" Jim asked, holding up a paper that only belonged in a police station.

"I know someone who provides me with such," Sherlock replied. "This is as much information as I can get," he elaborated, "without giving away my identity of course."

"Sure, sure," Jim nodded and started looking at the papers when he heard it. It was a noise that had been following them since the café. He hadn't been entirely too sure on it before, but now that it was quite and they were alone, he was certain.

"Sherlock," He started at a whisper.

"I know," Sherlock answered, nodding his head slightly.

"But…he knows," Jim said, confused as to why no action was taking place.

"Don't worry he won't tell anyone," Sherlock smiled slightly. "Will he?"

It was only when Sherlock's voice became louder that John realized they were talking about him. He stepped out from his hiding place a little sheepishly.

"I won't," He said, though whether his answer came from interest in the boys or fear of them, he wasn't certain.

"How can we be sure?" Jim asked. "We don't even know you."

"Well, I'm John," John replied.

Jim looked over worriedly to Sherlock. Sherlock turned to him slightly, his full attention still on the papers, and gave him a little nod.

"I'm Jim," Jim told John. "And this is-"

"Sherlock," John finished. "The kid who went missing five years ago."

"Not missing," Sherlock corrected. "Purposeful avoidance."

"But why would you want to avoid them?" John asked. "Don't you want a family? Or at least someone to help?"

"I don't need someone telling me what to do or when to do it, I'm better when I can make my own decisions," Sherlock answered. "Besides, I do have someone to help me."

Jim looked over at him, utterly confused as he was convinced Sherlock was as lonely as him. But then he noticed that Sherlock was looking at him with a suggestive face and Jim didn't know whether to feel embarrassed or excited. He'd never had someone to help before.

John was silent for a while before he moved over to their neck of the office. He glanced down at the papers. "If you want," He said slowly. "I could help too."

Sherlock glanced over at him and looked him over…twice. "Perhaps," He said. "We might find some use for you."

John felt slightly offended. "I can do plenty thanks."

"Oh, I don't doubt that," Sherlock nodded. "I'm sure you can do plenty things, just not things that we require of you."

Now John was really offended. But what bothered him the most was his need to prove himself, to prove that he was…worthy?...of their company. "I'll bring you anything you need," he stated. "Anything at all."

Sherlock finally brought his full attention away from the papers and gave it to John. "Your father's medical journals then."

John was about to say something when he noticed it. _How the hell did he know?_ "What do you mean medical journals?"

"Your father's a doctor is he not?" Sherlock inquired.

"Well…yes, but how did you know?" John asked.

Sherlock leaned on the table and Jim gave a half-smile, this was going to be interesting. "Well, your attire suggests that you go to a private school which means your family has money, however you've got an air of humility around you which suggests that you didn't fall into money but earned it. There's a fairly new pad you're carrying which has the brand of a pharmaceutical company, one which has only been in town in the past week at one convention of which only doctors were allowed to attend. There's a contusion on your left ankle (at this point John looked down as if to make sure it was there) that has been properly cared for 24/7 which means that someone at home obviously knows how to handle medical situations. And of course, there's a not sticking out of your book that's signed Dr. Watson."

John looked at Sherlock in stunned silence. "That was…wow," John finally said.

Sherlock smiled and looked over all pleased with himself.

"But how did you know it wasn't my mom who was the doctor?" John asked.

"Simple, the writing wasn't feminine enough," Sherlock shrugged.

"That's just…fantastic," John sighed.

Sherlock just smiled and glanced sideways at him. Jim just looked at them, the jealousy surely showing.

XXXXXX

Across the street, two someone's were watching the door the three teens had previously entered. One of them was staring at the door intently, the other was waiting by patiently.

"Do you ever plan to tell him?" The waiting one asked.

The other shifted their position. "No…at least, not until he's ready.

**(Fair warning, my school's play is coming up soon, so the next chap will probably take just as long)**


	5. Chapter 5

Rain Falls: Chapter Five

**(Guise, hell week is next week, this is the only thing keeping me from having an anxiety attack…but luckily for you that means a chapter now and most likely a really good one next week, cause this will also be the only thing that keeps me sane when our director's yelling at everyone and I'm just sitting there taking notes like yeah…)**

Jim and John followed Sherlock out into the blinding sun. It seemed too sunny after all the rain they had gotten the previous days. The worst part was the fact that the ground was wet and the sun reflected off of it in an un-pleasant way that caused both Jim and John to cover their eyes.

In the office space they hadn't learned much they didn't already know. Sherlock's parents and brother were found dead and there had been no evidence anywhere. The weapon was obviously a knife, but it was not found and neither were any hairs or fingerprints. It was almost like a clean murder. There had once been an old woman who claimed she knew information, but when they went to question her, they found she had been murdered in a similar fashion. Needless to say no one ever stepped forward with any other information.

Detective Inspector Lestrade was assigned the case, and even after everyone else had written it off as an unsolvable case, he had continued to work on it, even to this day.

"Don't you think that's odd?" Jim asked as they walked back through the maze. "I mean, why would someone look into that case more if it didn't have a person connection?"

"Maybe he does," John suggested.

"Maybe he was involved," Jim added. "And is just trying to find someone else to pin it on?"

"If he was involved it'd be in his best interest to let it go un-solved," Sherlock interjected.

"What do you think then?" John asked. "If he's not involved, why continue working it? Did he have any emotional attachment? Did he know your family?"

Sherlock paused, if only for a second. "He's simply a man who likes his cases solved."

"Kind of like you?" John confirmed.

"Exactly like me."

XXXXXXXXX

"This old woman is bothering me," Jim mention as the three of them sat down to gather their thoughts. "I mean, maybe she told someone what they knew. Like, her daughter or grandchildren?"

"If they knew then why wouldn't they say anything?" Sherlock countered.

"Because they're scared," John answered. Both Sherlock and Jim looked at him confused.

"Scared?" Sherlock asked. "Why?"

"Because someone else got killed for almost telling. That's going to stop a lot of people from saying so themselves," John answered, feeling like he was explaining algebra to a two-year-old.

"This is why I wish I wasn't me for a moment. I could go ask them," Sherlock sighed, and you could tell he was upset, but only if you were looking for it.

"I could do it," Jim offered quickly. "I can be good at that."

"I'll go with you," John offered.

"No," Jim said, even more quickly than his previous statement. "I can do this by myself." He stood up. "I'm certain of it."

Sherlock crossed his arms and looked Jim up and down. "Alright," He said. "They live-"

"I know!" Jim smiled. "I won't fail you!" He took off running down the street. "Meet you back home!" He called over his shoulder.

Sherlock turned back around with his deep-thought face on.

"What?" John asked him.

"Did he say home?" Sherlock replied.

"Yeah, I guess he did," John nodded. "Why? Is that odd?"

"No, no," Sherlock nodded as well. "Just making sure…"

XXXXXXXXX

Jim sighed and combed a hand through his hair before he knocked on the door. He had 'picked up' a pad and pen on his way over and was concentrating on looking very school-like.

An old, but relatively pretty, adult answered the door. She looked at Jim with a scrutinizing appeal and crossed her arms. "May I help you?" She asked.

"Hello," Jim said, feeling suddenly very nervous. "Um, I'm Jim and I'm doing a report on the old Holmes' murder case. I know that your mother had affliction with the case and I was wondering if I could interview you and your family for information."

Jim looked inside when he heard a ruffling at the mention of the murder case. A teenage girl with long black hair and deep eyes was staring intently at him. The door slammed in his face before he even registered that the woman had said 'No' sharply.

Jim found his way to the back of the houses and stood in wait, looking for sign of the girl in any of the windows. He smiled in triumph when he saw her enter a back bedroom on the ground floor. He walked up and tapped on her window.

The girl, who was getting ready to change jumped with a start and turned around quickly to see a teenage boy who had previously been at his door asking about murder waving at her with a smile on his face. She briskly walked to the window and opened it up.

"What are you doing?" She asked bewildered.

"I know you know something," Jim smiled. "I'm here for information. Please."

The girl looked at the ground in thought before moving closer to the window. "I can't tell you," She whispered. "Then they'll come and kill me too."

"I won't mention it was you," Jim promised. "I'll make it anonymous."

"They'll still know it was from my family."

"Then I won't put it in my report."

"Then why do you want to know?"

"I'll tell them I knew it. That she told me."

"Why would she tell you?"

"Would you stop being so difficult and just tell me already."

The girl gave a small giggle and smiled at him. "Promise they won't get me or my family."

"I swear," Jim agreed, crossing his heart.

"Come on in," The girl opened the window all the way and allowed Jim to enter her room.

"Jim Moriarty," Jim said, sticking his hand out.

"Irene Adler," She replied, shaking his hand.

"Tell me what you know Irene. It's important, and could help solve the murder too."

Irene bit her lip. She was having second thoughts about it.

"Here's an idea. Tell me what you know. Then I can take what you know, and find _other_ evidence that supports it and say that's how I figured it out," Jim suggested.

"It was definitely a man," Irene nodded. "My grandmother was certain of that."

Jim wrote that down and looked up at Irene expectantly. She shook her head.

"That's it?" He asked. "It doesn't seem likely he would kill her for knowing his gender. There has to be something more." Silence. "I promise, I won't even mention your family."

"She said," Irene tucked her hair behind her ear and sighed. "She said they knew the guy. That on the night of the murder they let him into the house willingly and they seemed to be having good conversation. She said that the murder happened so suddenly without any real up leading to it. And that's all she said, I swear."

Jim nodded as he wrote down what she said. "Thank you very much for your help," He bowed slightly and made his way back to the window.

"Wait, Jim," Irene reached out and grabbed his arm. "Look, I've studied that case for years. I know everything about it. So, if you ever need any more help with your report, don't be shy ok?"

Jim smiled back at her. "I'll be sure to make my way back around."

XXXXXXXXX

Jim had returned and shared his information with the other two. The three had stuck around and talked it over until John realized school had ended. He raced back home, only to find two obviously angered parents awaiting him.

"The school called," His father said. "They said you weren't there today."

"They do that now?" John asked.

"Where were you?" His mother brought the conversation back to the topic.

John didn't have a readily available answer.

"Where you with a girl?" John turned around to where his little sister was sticking her head out of her bedroom door.

"What! No," He replied.

"A boy then?" She smiled.

"Harry please, this is a private conversation, please leave us alone," Their mother said.

Harriet let out a puff of air and strolled past them to go out back.

"I just had a test I wasn't ready for," John spat out. "I was too nervous that I wasn't going to do well so I didn't go."

"Why didn't you just fake sick like normal kids?" His father asked.

"Because I knew you wouldn't buy it," John replied.

"So you decide to skip instead!" His mother asked.

"I'm sorry," John said. "It won't happen again."

"You bet it won't," His mother agreed. "Now go upstairs and properly study so you can make that test up after school tomorrow."

"Yes ma'am," John sighed and raced off to his room.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"So what do you make of it?" Jim asked as he and Sherlock lay inside the warehouse at night, him on the floor, Sherlock on the bed.

"Hm?" Sherlock asked, obviously not paying attention.

"About how your family knew the guy," Jim clarified. "I mean, you knew who they knew right? That should help you narrow the list down." After some silence, Jim raised himself on his elbows to look up at Sherlock. "You do know who they knew right?"

"I didn't pay attention to my family much," Sherlock answered. "They were the least of my concerns."

"Well, you were only ten," Jim nodded and lay back down.

"Yeah," Sherlock drew the word out as he went back to his own thoughts.

"Well, I'm going to sleep on that," Jim said. "Night?"

There was no reply as Sherlock lay in his bed and relived every moment he could remember from his childhood, trying to pick out people who were constantly popping up.


	6. Chapter 6

Rain Falls Chapter 6

John raced down the street. He had skipped chess club in order to meet up with Sherlock, Jim, and the granddaughter of the woman who had been killed.

The three were sitting at a small tabled outside of a café and John took the last available seat.

"Sorry," John breathed. "But did you really have to pick someplace so far away?"

"It's safer here," Sherlock replied, pulling his eyes away from the girl to glance at John.

"You must be John then," The girl smiled and extended her arm.

"And that makes you Irene," John took her hand and shook it with a smile.

"We were just discussing these," Irene answered, handing a stack of files over to him.

"What are these?" John questioned as he leafed through the personal files.

"A compilation of everyone I remember who had an association with my parents," Sherlock answered.

"W-where did you get these?" John asked.

Sherlock remained silent and just gave a little smirk.

"So I figure our next step would be to question all of these people," Jim stepped in. "You know, check their alibis and everything. I figure between Irene and myself we could cover them all pretty quick."

"I could do it too," John offered.

"No no," Jim said quickly. "I mean, you have school and such."

"But it's almost the weekend," John argued. "You could just wait a day and I could help out."

"We don't have time to wait," Jim replied.

"Sure we do," Irene said softly. "I mean, it's not like they're going anywhere."

"Yeah but the quicker we get this done the better yeah?" Jim added.

"We can wait a day," Sherlock, who had been silently observing, finally said.

"Oh, I think you'll have to wait longer than one day," A voice from behind them said.

The group looked around and noticed a large amount of police officers were surrounding them. Irene stood up with a look of gloom on her face.

"I'm so sorry," She apologized. "I'm really, really, sorry."

Jim looked up at her betrayed. Then he looked around for a way out, but there was no escape.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"I don't believe it," Jim sighed. "She turned us in."

"My dad is going to kill me," John whined, leaning his head against the wall.

"She probably lied," Sherlock added. He was leaning against the bars of the cell with his arms crossed and his eyes closed.

"About what?" Jim asked.

"Everything?" John mumbled sarcastically.

"About the murderer," Sherlock answered. "He wasn't a friend of the family."

"What makes you say that?" John questioned.

"It was an interesting enough concept to get us to meet with here. A lie to get us caught," Sherlock explained.

"I believed her," Jim sighed, hanging his head. "I honestly thought we were getting somewhere."

"Don't worry about it," John told him. "It wasn't your fault."

"Yeah?" Jim spoke the word in such a way that it could be considered a question or a statement based on how you were listening to it. Jim looked over to Sherlock who didn't move or speak.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Time passed slowly in the cell. Sherlock was silently thinking and the last thing Jim wanted to do was talk to John and John was doing his best to not freak out.

Eventually the sound of a deadlock being turned was heard and the door to the left of the cell was opened.

A tall man entered the room and stood with his arms folded in front of the cell.

"Lestrade," Sherlock spoke, though he never opened his eyes.

"What happened?" Lestrade asked. "I thought you said you couldn't be found."

"We were trapped," Sherlock replied.

"Irene lied to us," Jim added.

"By a girl?" Lestrade asked, purely surprised.

Sherlock didn't say anything or turn around, but he did raise his eyebrow.

There was a moment of stillness as Lestrade sighed. Then the three teens heard the jingles of keys and the cell door was being slid open.

"Just don't make me regret this," Lestrade said as he stepped aside to let them pass.

"Do I ever?" Sherlock answered.

Jim trailed behind the group and found himself behind tanked back forcefully. He turned around to face with Irene.

"Please don't go," She begged him.

"Why would I do what you asked?" Jim replied with anger. "You turned us in!"

"But I had to!" Irene replied.

"WHY!"

"Look, Jim, this thing, this whole thing, it's so much bigger than you think. Believe me, you're all involved now, and you're much safer if you stay in here."

"I don't have any reason to trust you," Jim yanked his arm away from her. "And we can take care of ourselves." He started running off.

"Well I wasn't lying!" Irene called after him. "They really did know the guy!" But Jim was already gone.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sherlock and Jim had dropped John off and were walking home when they saw it. A large smoke cloud was floating in the sky around the direction they lived. As they walked a couple of fire trucks passed them.

At first they didn't think much of this, but as they got closer, and the cloud looked more and more in the direction of their home, they broke into a run.

The turned down the alley and saw the disaster. Flames were escaping through the windows of the old warehouse. Smoke was filling the air and multiple trucks were outside trying to put the flames out.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Are you going to tell him now?" One of the mystery figures asked the other. "He has nowhere else to go."

"No," The other replied thoughtfully. "He's always got somewhere to go."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Jim and Sherlock started to leave as a crowed began to gather, what two of the most brilliant boys in the world failed to realize was that one of the most brilliant men in the world was following them, tracking their steps, and planning his next attack.


	7. Chapter 7

Rain Falls Chapter: 7

(AN: I know it's been a while, sorry, the time between Thanksgiving and Christmas gets crazy around this side of the computer. But I'm here again and I don't have school this week so I'll do my best to get as much of this done as I can. Again, sorry it's really late, please don't kill me *goes into hiding*)

John had found it surprisingly easy to lie to his parents. Within minutes of walking through the door he was able to convince them that the club had had a strategic planning over dinner at Tierra Brindisa. He did, however, have to sit through a speech about calling home first before he was sent to be, unbeknownst to his parents, without supper. The events of that evening had been so tiring that, despite the knowing hunger in his stomach, John fell asleep instantly.

John felt that he had only been asleep for a couple of seconds (when in fact it had been precisely one hour and thirty-three minutes) when he was startled awake by a loud clap of thunder. It was raining again. John lay in his bed trying to fall back asleep but rain, and now hail, was pounding against his house, rendering him unable to. A large flash illuminated his room and John noticed two shadows from outside dancing across his wall. He jumped at the four sharp and quick knocks at his window.

Fear seized up his body and John reached for the bat that lay under his bed. He never did pick it up though. Relief spread through him as he realized that the silhouette outside his window belonged to Sherlock.

John climbed out of bed and hurried to his window. He let in a soaking wet Sherlock followed by an equally wet Jim.

"What are you doing here?" John asked, turning on his light.

"There was a fire," Jim explained as he closed the window. "Our hideout was burnt down."

"So you came here?" John questioned. "What if it was arson? If someone's after you then they're going to come here! My family's in danger!"

"Don't worry about that," Sherlock waved him off. "It's me they want, I assure you no harm will befall them."

"How can you be so sure?" John asked, to which Sherlock turned to him with a look that said 'I just do'.

"So can we stay here or what?" Jim asked, clearly irritated.

John sighed. "Yeah, I guess."

"John?" A female voice called from out in the hall.

Sherlock and Jim were quick to take to hiding, one in the closet and one under the bed respectively.

"John, are you still up?" John's mother opened his door and stepped inside.

"Storm woke me," John explained, stepping in front of the wet spot by his window.

"Are you sure you're ok? You seem different lately," She mentioned.

"I'm fine," John smiled. "Same old me."

"Alright," She crossed the distance to him. "Try and get back to sleep." She leaned over slightly and kissed the top of his head before leaving.

Jim crawled out from under the bed laughing.

"What?" John asked.

Jim stopped laughing and got serious. "You're such a mama's boy."

"I am not!" John replied defensively.

"Are too," Jim argued.

"So where will we be staying?" Sherlock interrupted.

"Follow me," John stuck his head out his door and waited until the light in his parents room went off before he motioned for the other two to follow him into the hall.

They crept down to the opposite end and John opened a door that led to steps that led to the attic.

"You can stay up here," John whispered as he led the way up and turned on the light. "It's not very crowded so you'll have lots of room. But the floor does creak a lot do you can't really move around at night."

Sherlock and Jim passed him, taking a look around.

"This will do fine," Sherlock nodded.

"Here," John opened a box and pulled out some blankets. "I'll try and stay home from school tomorrow so we can talk."

"We don't need you," Jim mentioned quickly. "To do that," he added shortly after.

"I'll still try," John replied.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

However, John was unable to convince his parents that he was ill, and left for school that morning. The house was quiet once everyone left and Sherlock and Jim were free to move about.

They didn't even have time to speak one word before there were four quick and sharp knocks on the door. It was the code they had established with John and Jim looked towards Sherlock. Perhaps John had skipped anyway and was just getting back now.

Sherlock shook his head and the two hid in a pile of boxed as a hooded figure appeared from the stair case. The figure stood still for a while and looked around. Jim and Sherlock remained perfectly still and silent, a feat the two of them had already had much practice in.

After a moment the figure came and stood in front of the pile of boxes that the two teens were crouched behind. For a while Jim was certain that the figure knew they were there and was going to kill them. The two heard someone fussing with a piece of paper before the figure withdrew from the room.

"What was that?" Jim whispered as the two emerged from their hiding spot.

"Not sure," Sherlock replied. He turned to face the boxes and picked up a piece of paper that the figure had left behind.

"Looks like the designs to some kind of puzzle box," Jim noted as he looked over Sherlock's shoulder.

"I've seen this before," Sherlock said, studying the paper further.

"Where?"

Sherlock didn't respond at first. He stared into space for a moment before he turned towards the stairs and left the house, with Jim in quick pursuit.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"So, where are we?" Jim asked as he stood beside Sherlock in front of a large house. The doors and windows were all boarded up like it had been abandoned but the weeds had recently been cut back and the house still looked in good condition.

"My old house," Sherlock replied. He started walking around the yard to the back door.

"This is where you've seen that puzzle box? In your own house?" Jim stood by the door as Sherlock grabbed a near-by shovel and began to tear off the boards.

"It was in my father's office," Sherlock answered him. "It's the top half of his desk." Sherlock ripped the last board off and got to work un-locking the door.

"The last time you saw that thing was over 10 years ago," Jim pointed out. "How could you still remember that? You were like, five."

The door opened with a click and Sherlock shared a glance with Jim before he walked inside with Jim following. The door led to a large kitchen filled with every kitchen appliance you could possibly imagine.

The entire house seemed to be even larger on the inside with arched ceilings and wide staircases. "So where's your father's office?" Jim asked as he made his way to the entry way.

"It's through here," Sherlock opened a sliding door and the two stepped into what looked like a rounded library with a desk sitting in the back. This was where it had happened. There was still evidence of a crime scene; a couple of number cards here and there, some blood stains in other places. The desk had a large leather chair behind it and two smaller ones in front. These had been the chairs Sherlock's family was sitting in when it happened.

"So, this is where it happened huh?" Jim asked, taking a glance around the office.

"Yeah," Was Sherlock's only reply as he took the designs out of his pocket and studied the desk.

"What do we do?" Jim asked.

"Here," Sherlock put the paper away and grabbed the top of the desk. "Hold the bottom edge."

Jim grabbed the legs of the desk and Sherlock pushed until there was click and the top of the desk slid away until half of it was hanging off. Sherlock and Jim walked around and Sherlock slid out a little compartment in the front to reveal a key hole.

"We need a key," Jim stated. "Do you know where it is?"

Sherlock shook his head but looked up and around the room. Jim studied the key hole as Sherlock gave the room his best look-over. It couldn't be in this room. You never keep the key where the lock is.

"It's got to be with him," Sherlock said. "It had to have been buried with my father."

"That…that can't be," Jim replied. "I mean, how are we supposed to get it now."

Before Sherlock could reply there was a loud crash from inside the kitchen and the two quickly ran out of the room and upstairs to hide.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Lestrade sat down at his desk and turned on his computer. There hadn't been much activity as of late, almost as if all the criminals got together and decided to take a vacation. He ran his hands through his hair and stifled a yawn. In the reflection of his computer screen he noticed that there was two men in black suites walking towards him.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade?" The first man asked.

"Yes?" Lestrade turned around and faced them.

"I'm Agent Milestone and this is Agent Millers. We're from MI5 and we need to ask you a few questions."


	8. Chapter 8

(AN: Hehehe, you know that promise I made last time? Yeah, sorry 'bout that. I punished myself by committing to not watching the falls until I wrote this up. I know it's been slow lately, but I swear to you I am finishing this one. If it makes any difference, I was working on a different Fan Fic. Any who, please do enjoy, I'm a be crying my eyes out soon, I'm certain of it)

Rain Falls: Chapter 8

Jim found himself in a large ball-room like room that was directly across from the study. Sherlock had raced up the stairs and both managed to get out of sight before three hooded figures, much like the one in the attic, had appeared. The room was empty. The floors were wooden and a large chandelier hung from the ceiling. A large glass sliding door was boarded up on the opposite side of Jim and lead to a small garden that was still thriving.

Jim slowly walked the length of the room, very aware of the noise his feet made as they made contact with the wood. Jim stopped walking when he reached the mid way point and he took a full look around the room. There were two tables sitting in front of mirrors. The tables were small and had a white table cloth draped over them.

Jim heard voices and noticed foot steps approaching his room. He dove straight for the table on the right side of the room, just able to get his body crammed inside before the door opened.

He heard two people enter the room.

"I don't think they're in here," A male's voice said.

"They've got to be somewhere," A female replied. "We saw them go in."

"Well perhaps they've left since then?"

"We didn't see them leave. They are definitely still here."

"Well they're not in this room obviously. Let's go."

"If we don't find them, The President will not be pleased."

"Don't worry. If they're here, I'm sure we'll find them."

Jim waited until he was certain they were long gone before he even thought about getting out. Having a bit of trouble, he grabbed the table leg to pull himself through. He felt his fingers push against a knot in the wood and he heard a soft hiss.

After emerging from under the table, Jim noticed something was wrong with the room. Across from him, right next to the mirror, a section of the wall was now indented from the rest of it. Jim walked over and lightly touched the wall, finding shortly thereafter that it pivoted. He pushed full force and the wall turned sideways, allowing him access to a secret room.

There wasn't much inside, not even a window. There was just a steel desk and a bunch of pictures and maps taped to the wall. The pictures were all connected with strings of yarn. There were pieces of papers with notes scribbled on them pined to the maps and they were attached to the pictures as well. Jim noticed different files on the desk. He gathered them all and stuck them inside his coat. He took a mental picture of the wall and quickly left the room, the wall hissing its way back into place.

Jim opened the ball room door a crack and peeked outside. He saw the three hooded figures leaving into the kitchen and figured after a moment they were gone for good, so he snuck out and went upstairs to find Sherlock.

"May I ask what you're doing here?" Lestrade asked. He was seated at one end of an interrogation table opposite of one of the MI5 agents whilst another stood close by at the door.

"We're investigation the escape of Sherlock Holmes," the agent opposite, Milestone, stated.

"Escape?" Lestrade gave a small chuckle. "You mean when he ran away when he was 10?"

"I mean his escape from jail yesterday," Milestone replied.

"How did you know about that?" Lestrade leaned forward, suddenly more aware of his current predicament.

"We were alerted when you lot first got him," Milestone replied. "But when we got here, he was already gone."

"We're on the case now," the other agent, Millers, stepped in. "And last we checked, you were the last to enter the cell area.

Another little chuckle. "You're not seriously considering that I did this?"

"Why not?" Milestone asked. "You're in change of his case and were close to the family. It's only logical that you would want to help him."

"Wouldn't wanting to help him be getting him in a good home?" Lestrade asked, although not only to the agents.

"Perhaps," Millers said as Milestone stood up.

"We'll be around," Milestone added before they left Lestrade alone to his thoughts.

"Sherlock!" Jim called out when he got to the second floor.

"In here?" He heard a reply coming from down the hall.

Jim burst into what looked like another library office and found Sherlock staring at one of the shelves, full concentration on what was in front of him.

"Those figures were looking for us," Jim explained. "I heard two of them talking and they mentioned someone named The President."

"Hmm," Was Sherlock's only reply.

"And look at these," Jim pulled out the files. "I found these in a secret room in that ballroom place."

"I think I know where the key is," Sherlock stated.

"What's that now?"

"Look at these," Sherlock pointed to the shelf in front of him where a group of pictures of his father stood. Each picture was of a different event at a different time.

"What about them?" Jim asked.

"Do you see how he's wearing a watch in each of them?"

"Yeah?"

Sherlock looked over to Jim for the first time to make his point. "Then why would he need a pocket watch?"

Jim looked back to the pictures then over to Sherlock again. "I don't know. Sentiment maybe?"

"My father wasn't a very sentimental person."

The two boys turned to the window as rain started falling again.

"I think we should go now," Sherlock said, slowly pulling his attention away.

"But what about the room?" Jim asked holding out the files.

Sherlock took them from him and walked out of the room, on his way towards the kitchen.

"I can not believe you convinced me to do this," John mentioned. He leaned against his shovel and looked at the other two.

"Feel free to opt out at any moment," Jim replied as Sherlock handed him his shovel.

"Come on guys," Sherlock said. "Let's get started." He plunged his shovel into the ground and the other two followed suite.

It had rained all day only just letting up as the sun fell. The ground was considerably moist and thusly easy for the three to shovel. It only took about an hour until someone hit wood and the shoveling stopped.

John and Jim waited as Sherlock jumped down into the hole they had dug out. Standing on the bottom half, Sherlock reached down and unlatched the top part of his father's coffin. The smell hit them the moment the casket had been opened. John and Jim covered their faces and even Sherlock turned his face a bit.

Sherlock reached inside and pulled the pocket watch away from the body. He quickly closed the coffin again and climbed back to the surface.

"It's locked," He announced as he studied the watch.

"Why would it be locked?" John asked.

"If you had something valuable to hide you'd lock it too," Jim replied. "How do you open it?"

"It's a combination," Sherlock said. "You've got to turn it the right way to get in."

"Well that's just great," John sighed. "How are we going to open it?"

Sherlock didn't reply for a moment, he just sat there, spinning the lock, playing with it. Soon there was a small click and a snap as the watch opened.

"Like that," He smiled up at them.

"But it's just a watch," Jim said looking over Sherlock's shoulder. "There's no key in there."

"Oh, there's a key alright," Sherlock pushed the lock in and the broken face sprung open revealing a small compartment where the key had been hidden.

"First grave robbing and now breaking and entering!" John exclaimed as Sherlock started to unlock the back door.

"You don't have to come along," Jim told him as he followed Sherlock inside. "We can get along fine without your complaining."

John considered it for a moment, before giving in and following the other two inside.

The group made their way through the kitchen and were about to enter the main foyer when they heard voices. Sherlock put his arm out and pushed the others against the wall as they watched two hooded figures emerge from the office.

"Are you sure they're coming back?" One of them asked the other. Jim recognized this as the female voice from before.

"Certain," A new, unfamiliar male voice replied. "He's a smart kid, I'm sure he knows where the key is. All we have to do is wait for him to come back and open the desk for us. Then we'll have the message and the kid."

"Wouldn't he know we were waiting for him?" The female asked.

"I said he was smart," The other replied. "But let's not go overboard here."

The two figures went into the ballroom and the three teens snuck across to the office. John turned and locked the door as Sherlock and Jim made quick work of the desk.

"They knew we were coming," John whispered. "Are you sure it's a good idea to do this?"

"It's now or never John," Sherlock replied as he unlocked the desk.

John walked over to them as a small compartment slid out. Inside the compartment was jewelry box that was, of course, locked.

The tree teens were studying the case when the figure emerged from the shadows.

"Congratulations Mr. Holmes," The deep and rich voice announced. "You've solved the puzzle." He gave a small chuckle and held out his hand. "Now, give it here, and I won't kill you."


	9. Chapter 9

Rain Falls Chapter 9

"And if I don't?" Sherlock asked, staring at the shadow covering the hooded man's head.

"You die," The figure stated. Sherlock gave a shrug and a shake of the head, like he didn't quite get it. "And so do your friends."

"Sherlock," John whispered.

"I know," He replied.

"So," The figure twitched his hand. "Give it here."

Sherlock considered it for a moment. He tossed the little box up in the air a couple of times. Finally he caught the box and didn't throw it. He held it half way to the figure and half way towards himself. He gave a little smirk.

"No," he said.

The figure had started moving towards the box, but then stopped. "No?"

Sherlock shrugged and made a face. "No."

"What do you mean, no?" The figure questioned with a little chuckle.

"There's really only one meaning behind that word, don't you think?" Sherlock licked his lips and smiled, edging the figure on.

The figure straightened himself and sighed. He brought his sleeve up to his face. "Kill them."

The door burst down and both Sherlock and Jim flipped the desk over, taking John down with them for cover as bullets started to fly.

"Is this really your plan!" John shouted.

"Move," Sherlock told Jim, who was sitting next to him.

"What?" He asked.

"MOVE!"

Jim crawled around John and sat back against the desk on the opposite side. Sherlock banged against the floor and there was a hiss before the floor where Jim had been sitting slid open.

"Get in," Sherlock motioned to John. John nodded and slid down. There was a slight drop before he hit the floor. He looked up and saw Jim getting ready to jump and rolled out of the way. Jim landed besides him and moved quickly as Sherlock made his way down.

"Come on," Sherlock said getting to his feet. "We don't have much time until they realize we're gone."

John and Jim struggled to their feet and started to follow Sherlock. They had fallen into a dug out cave and were now running down a long passage way. They heard the hooded figures drop into where they had previously been. The three ran into another large dome only to be met with multiple exit ways.

"We split up," Sherlock ordered. "All ways lead to outside. When you get there meet up at the corner on Baker Street where the ATM is. Go!"

Sherlock ran off to the left, John went right and Jim took the one straight ahead.

"President," A female hooded figure started the kneels as the head honcho walked into the office.

"Where are they?" The President asked.

"The children escaped through a panic route sir," A male announced. "We have people after them now."

"And the message?"

"We couldn't obtain it sir," A second female voice said.

"He said no," The male added.

"Yes, yes," The President nodded. "I've visited the room, the files are missing."

"But sir-"

"No no," The President waved the man off. "This is a good thing. Let them have their little hunt. Let them try and trace it. They must need it. Must need something. Call back the men."

"But the message sir-"

"We'll have that message soon," The President turned around. "And they'll give it right to us."

Jim turned to look over his shoulder as he saw flash lights following them into the tunnels. He was turning back around when he ran straight into someone and both of them fell over.

Jim slowly got to his feet and grabbed his injured head as he looked for his companion. When his vision came back to normal he saw a young woman getting to her feet.

"Irene?" He asked.

"Jim?" She questioned back.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was just doing research for something," She announced. "What are you doing here?"

"Running," Jim said looking over his shoulder.

"Are those them?" Irene asked, the fear certain in her eyes. "Oh God."

"Come on," Jim grabbed her hand and together they bolted for the end of the tunnel.

Almost at the end they heard the men behind them falling behind, and eventually running the wrong way. Jim stopped and looked back, just to be sure.

"Look Jim," Irene looked at him, taking this moment to talk. "I really am sorry about what happened. It's just, those guys, they…well they're just not good ok. And I knew, I knew that you'd all be safer if you didn't go digging around in that case."

"We have to Irene. Sherlock's my friend now, I have to help him."

"But Jim, oh Jim they're so…so," Irene tried her best to hold back her sobs, but a few tears escaped anyway.

"It's ok Irene," Jim smiled and took her hand. "We'll be alright. But we gotta move now."

John and Sherlock arrived at the corner at roughly the same time. Both had run there and were now taking a moment to catch their breath.

"How did you know that?" John panted. "That the floor would give way?"

"I wasn't until we flipped the desk," Sherlock replied. "It was just a hunch."

"You mean you almost got us killed over a hunch!" John accused.

"Well, I was right," Sherlock shrugged.

"I'm going to kill you," John replied.

"Guys!" Jim called out as he and Irene approached them.

"What the hell is she doing here?" Sherlock asked, pointing at Irene.

"I-I promise I won't do anything," Irene told him. "I won't turn you in again."

"I don't believe you," Sherlock replied.

"Really Sherlock, she won't," Jim said. "She was just scared is all. Of those men. She's sincere I guarantee it."

"What's the next step in the plan now?" John asked.

"I need to call Lestrade," Sherlock announced, crossing the street and heading down towards a pay phone.

"What's he going to do?" John questioned.

"I need some information, on gangs, terrorist parties, anything that could lead to those men," Sherlock stopped at the phone and picked it up.

"Wait, we don't have any change," John announced.

Sherlock held his hand out to Irene with raised eye brows. She nodded and dug in her pocket, producing a few coins. Sherlock took them and dialed Lestrade's cell.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

"Lestrade?" Lestrade answered as he glanced over at the MI5 agents who were looking at him, taking a break from sifting through the Holmes' murder files.

"It's me," Sherlock said. "I need some information."

"I'm a bit busy right now," Lestrade answered.

"I don't care," Sherlock said. "I need to know about-"

"I'm working on the Hudson file right now, it's important," Lestrade cut him off.

"Right," Sherlock said before the phone was disconnected.

"What was that?" John asked. "What happened?"

"He's being watched," Sherlock replied, walking down Baker Street, back towards John's house. "We can't contact him. At least not for a while, until things cool down."

"So what next?" Jim asked. "We figure out how to open this," Sherlock took the box from his pocket and tossed it into the air again.

"That was a close one sir," The mysterious figure mentioned. "He was almost killed."

"Sherlock dead?" The other one laughed a bit. "That'll be the day won't it?"

"I figure it's not time yet," The first said.

"No," The other turned from where they were watching and started walking away. "But it's getting close."


	10. Chapter 10

(**Hey, remember that time when I said I was going to be better at updating them, well, yeah, see that wasn't really me. That was my evil twin. My evil twin who also kidnapped me and stuck me in a closet with no computer or paper or anything! I only just now escaped with my sanity! Also, I don't know what the hell is happening to my scene breaks! They must keep breaking or something. Sorry)**

Rain Falls: Chapter 10

"There's not even a lock on it," Jim pointed out. He and Sherlock were crouched over a table in the attic. Sitting on the table was the box they had found in the desk and they had spent the last two hours trying to figure out how to open it.

"I'm quite aware of that thank you," Sherlock replied, his eyes glued to the box.

"It just doesn't make sense," Jim added. What kind of box doesn't even open?"

"The kind you don't want opened," Sherlock told him.

"So how are we supposed to open it?" Jim asked.

"We aren't," Sherlock said, picking up the box in his hands.

"So what are we even doing! This is completely pointless!" Jim threw his hands in the air and fell down on his back. "Why don't we just break it open?"

"We have no idea what's in here," Sherlock replied. "It could break as well."

Jim sighed and wrapped his arms around his chest. He felt the papers under his coat and sat up suddenly. "Wait, what about these?" Jim pulled out the files he had taken from Sherlock's house.

Sherlock glanced at the folders slightly. "I looked them over, they're not important."

"They're not?" Jim opened the files and looked at them. They were filled with pictures and notes of rich and powerful figures in London. "Your dad had files about all of these powerful guys, guys powerful enough to kill. Isn't it possible that he found something about them, and then they killed him because of it?"

"And his family too?" Sherlock asked back, making his point.

"Maybe they knew too," Jim suggested. "Did you?"

"That room you found was hidden in a room barely used with a switch on a table rarely touched. Why'd he go through the trouble of hiding it if we knew?"

"I'm just saying, maybe it's not a dead end," Jim argued. There was a pause. "Maybe…what did happen that night? Did they try and kill you as well?"

"I wasn't there when it happened," Sherlock answered.

"Where were you?" Jim asked.

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Just…out."

"Well that's very helpful."

"My whereabouts are not important their case."

"Anyway, I can't look at this anymore. I'm going for a walk. Wanna come?"

"No."

Jim walked away from Sherlock, stopped at the stairs to look back, but then continued when he saw Sherlock staring at the box without any emotion at all.

XXXXXXXXXXXxx

Jim was trying his best not to think of the box and the boy holding it, but there wasn't much else readily available to his mind. It wasn't until someone ran into him that he even glanced at his surroundings.

Another boy was tumbling backwards and Jim reached out to stop him from falling over. The kid glanced at him quickly, shoved something into his hands, then took off running again. Jim looked over confused, then glanced back and saw two police men racing towards him. Jim bolted after the kid when he realized he was holding a gun.

Jim followed the kid, not gaining any distance on him, but not losing any either, the police however were catching up. The kid turned into an ally and Jim followed, but there was no kid to be found. Jim reached a brick wall at the end and turned as he heard footsteps approaching.

There was a whistle and Jim looked to see the kid waving to him from a door. Jim raced inside and the kid closed and locked the door just as the police turned the corner. The two boys sat against the wall, catching their breath, whilst the two police officers went about checking doors, trying to find the kids. Eventually they gave up looking.

"Sorry 'bout that," The kid said, standing up and facing Jim, "But thanks for that."

Jim stood up as well and gave the kid the gun back. "Where did you get a gun like that?"

"Oh I just stole it," The kid smiled. "I'm a bit of a collector. Personally I like snipers better, but these are easier to hide in coats."

Jim looked at the kid, knew he was a bit messed up, and smiled back. "I'm Jim,"

"Sebastian," The kid reached out his hand.

"I think we're going to be great friends Sebastian," Jim said, shaking hands.

XXXXX

"What did you do?" Donovan asked Lestrade as the MI5 men searched his desk.

"Not a thing," He replied. "These men seem to have the suspicion that I'm hiding Sherlock. The very idea!"

"I'd be careful if I was you, never know what those guys'll dig up."

"I think I'll be alright," Lestrade sighed and crossed his arms. "I've got nothing to hide. But even as he spoke, another third agent from MI5 was discovering that Lestrade had made extra copies of certain restricted files, all relating to the Holmes' case.

XXXXXX

"Did you figure out how to open it yet?" John asked, sitting beside Sherlock, who hadn't moved since Jim left.

"No," He replied.

John glanced around. "Where's Jim?"

"He left?" Sherlock asked, still not looking up.

"What are these?" John started to leaf through the files, wondering where they had come from.

"Jim seems to think they're important. They were my father's. Apparently there's a conspiracy going on."

"Do you think they're important?"

"Not in the least."

John put the files back down. He looked at the box sitting before Sherlock. "Do you think…that maybe those hooded figures know how to open it?"

"Are you suggesting we go and ask them for help?" Sherlock finally looked away from the box to give John an you're-an-idiot look.

"No, but maybe, well maybe if they know, other people might know. I don't know what I'm saying. I was just thinking aloud I guess."

Sherlock turned back to the box. "You're probably right though."

"So are you. We can't just go ask someone who tried to kill us how to open this box."

"No," Sherlock sat up straighter and turned to John with an idea. "But we can ask them how to open a different box."


	11. Chapter 11

**(See the TRUTH is that I'm really a triplet! And my other sisters were tricking you! No actually, I've had some MAJOR writers block with this story {and all my fan fics to be quite honest} but I just recently started a new Teen Wolf fic and the juices are back. I hope you guys can find it in your heart to forgive me. I promise to finish this one. I PROMISE!)  
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Rain Falls Chapter 11

"So, this is my collection," Sebastian turned around from the abandoned storage facility to smile at Jim. After Jim smiled back, Sebastian turned back and opened one of the storage bins. Jim's jaw almost hit the floor.

The two boys were standing in front of multiple shelves filled with guns. Sebastian's sniper collection was on the wall straight ahead, and it was mighty impressive.

"This isn't half bad," Jim walked past Sebastian so he could scan the rest of the guns.

Sebastian sat on a nearly empty, low-hanging shelf. He smiles and started kicking his legs. "Thanks."

"And your parents don't know about this?"

"No. But my dad's in the military, so I'm sure he'd be proud," Jim turned to face the crazy boy he was talking to.

"Have you ever shot anyone?" He asked.

"No, but I've killed a couple raccoons before."

"Why do you even have all these?"

Sebastian shrugged. "I just kind of like 'em I guess."

"Can I?" Jim gestured towards one of the guns.

"Go right ahead boss," Sebastian nodded.

Jim's hand stopped short of the gun. "Boss?"

"Sorry," Sebastian smiled again. "I'm a lackey, it's sort of a habit."

"So where's your old boss?"

Sebastian smirked in a way that made Jim feel oddly comfortable. "Raccoons," Sebastian said with a head bob. Jim mimicked his bob.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Jim's still not back yet," John mentioned as he stared out the attic window at the setting sun.

"I'm sure he's fine," Sherlock said.

"What if he's not? What if those hooded people found him?"

"Then they will use him to lead us to them. Either way, he'll show up."

John brought his knees up to his chest and looked at Sherlock, who was working on their puzzle box replica. "I know he'd look for you if you were missing."

"But he's not missing."

Sherlock looked back at John when he didn't respond. He seemed to be genuinely worried about where Jim was.

"If he's not back by tomorrow, we'll go look for him." John smiled and moved forward to help Sherlock with their box.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"These are cool," Jim lightly touched the round objects that were on a separate shelf.

Sebastian craned his neck to look. "Oh yeah," He smirked. "Those are grenades. Some of them are flash, some are smoke, but mostly they're regular grenades."

"Did you steal these too?"

"From my dad's base yeah."

"Have you used one?"

"Storage block B-32," Jim and Sebastian shared a smile. "You can have one if you want."

"Are you serious? Aren't they like, dangerous?"

"That's the point," Sebastian pointed out.

"Which one's are the smoke?"

"They've got the grey tabs on them."

Jim picked one up and carefully slipped it into his coat pocket. "Thanks."

"Anytime boss."

Beeping started to ring through the room. Sebastian looked at his phone startled. "Aw man, I've gotta be home for dinner soon."

"Oh," Jim's smile faded.

"Here," Sebastian pulled out a piece of paper and a pen from his pocket. The paper was a receipt from some clothing store, Westwood it looked like it said. Sebastian scribbled on the paper and handed it to Jim. "Call me some time K? Maybe I can teach ya how to shoot or something."

"Maybe."

The two boys walked out together and continued on the same path before eventually having to go their separate ways.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Where have you been?" John asked as he let Jim in through his window.

"I was out doing research," Jim lied as John led him past his parents and sister in the living room and up to the attic.

"I've found Jim," John announced as they approached Sherlock.

"Hm?" Sherlock was busy turning two seemingly identical boxes around in his hands.

"Jim, I've found him."

Sherlock just nodded and continued to study the boxes.

"There's a second one!?" Jim asked.

"No. Whilst you were out we devised a plan," Sherlock replied.

Jim looked over at John with hurt. "What's that?" He asked Sherlock.

"We're going to get them to try and open this box," Sherlock held the box in his right hand up, "So that they'll tell us how to open this box," Sherlock put the left box in the air.

"But how do we tell them that we need them to open the box?" Jim asked.

"They already know," Sherlock said. "They've always known. Now we just need to arrange a meeting.


End file.
